


Into The Fray

by NeyMessi_FCB (Sherlockophobia)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, Anal Sex, Dominance, Light Bondage, M/M, Scar Worship, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockophobia/pseuds/NeyMessi_FCB
Summary: John’s emotions were still raw after fighting in the First World War, the war that was supposed to end all wars. Sherlock and him had been in a relationship for the better part of seven years and all he could worry about was if Sherlock was going to be conscripted to fight in the looming Second War. What if conscription wasn’t the only way Sherlock entered into the war?





	Into The Fray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Danagirl623](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/gifts).



> I really hope you enjoy this fic! John is a top and I hope that’s okay. :) I definitely enjoyed writing this, it helped me explore things I have never written before in the kink world. I do plan on writing a second chapter and epilogue because I got a little bit invested in this fic, haha. Happy holidays!!! Much love xxx. 
> 
> Porn...with plot!

John shuddered at the thought of Sherlock being drafted for this Second World War, absolutely hating Europe for causing another massive war with each other. He could only hope that there were less casualties this time around and that his boyfriend of six years would not be drafted. He thought it unfair that they send middle aged men to fight in these battles, when England had plenty of younger people to fight for them. He didn’t want anyone to go to war, because eighteen year olds should not have to worry about shooting another human. His boyfriend, or whatever one would call their partnership, would be home shortly from another one of his shifts as a detective. Sherlock would always brag how he’d be opening his own private business because he was the smartest man England had. He needed his own space - and god, that Anderson guy always pissed him off - Sherlock needed to control everything. 

The creek of the front door brought John out of his thoughts and he jumped, because the kettle screamed at him at almost the same time. 

“Sherlock, so glad you’re home. I put the kettle on so you can have some tea when you are done with your shift,” John put a smile on his face and walked over to his lover, wrapping his arms around his neck. 

Sherlock gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead and pulled away, mumbling a greeting. 

“Tough case?” John pried, wishing the younger man would open up sometime. 

Another grunt and Sherlock was moving into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea. Bergamot notes wafted into his nose and he sighed at the smell of Earl Grey tea brewing in Sherlock’s cup. He pulled the corner of his lower lip between his teeth and held onto it for a moment before letting it go, wondering if he would ever hear what happens that Sherlock sees every day. The man was rather stoic, but he attributed that to his aloofness and desire to maintain he was a genius. Not that he wasn’t, anyway. It was what first drew John to Sherlock, the way he saw the world differently than others, and how he was able to know exactly how John was injured in the war. A shiver went down his spine and he found himself strolling into the kitchen, his eyes dancing with lust. 

He took the tea out of Sherlock’s hand and set it on the table, moving close to him to close up the space between them. He pulled the taller man down by his collar and kissed him roughly, eager to do something, anything, to satisfy his urges. Sherlock made a noise in response, something between a growl and a sharp inhalation of air. Of course, Sherlock was never caught by surprise, he seemed to know everything that was going to happen before it happened. With tongues in each other’s mouths and Sherlock leading the way by pushing John, they made their way into the bedroom, the other man kicking the door closed with his foot. 

Through hot, passionate kisses and bites, they managed to undress each other. Sherlock ended up behind him, kissing gently around the scar on his shoulder. John let out a low groan, the area feeling tender, almost like it was while the gunshot wound was healing. He felt a wet line move up the raised skin of his scar and a bite to his neck sent electricity throughout his body and pooled in between his legs, bringing forth his erection harder than he anticipated. He absolutely loved when Sherlock worshiped his scar. There was something about the vulnerability that he enjoyed, although he wouldn’t admit it, because he was a strong military man. There was hot breath against his skin where the scar was and Sherlock used that low gravelly voice he adored. 

“I love the way you quiver when I touch your scar.”

John would have had a head rush, if most of his blood wasn’t already at his cock, which was slightly curved out in front of his body. He took advantage of this moment and turned around, pushing Sherlock roughly against the mattress. He climbed on top and kissed him again, enjoying the passionate moment between the two. Sherlock wasn’t a romantic, but when it came to sex, he really seemed to put out. Sherlock enjoyed being used and John was more than happy to oblige in fulfilling his boyfriend’s fantasies. Sherlock’s dick was hard and flushed up against John’s abdomen and the soldier did everything in his power not to slide down and suck him off. He wanted to wait until things got more hot and heavy before they got each other off. 

Rolling off onto his feet, John commanded his boyfriend, remembering his military experience, “Roll over.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told, and John noticed a twitch in the other’s cock at the tone he used. He picked up Sherlock’s tie off the floor and used it to tie his lover’s wrists together behind his back. That earned him a quiet moan and the air of dominance in the room became stronger. He pulled out a couple more neckties and secured Sherlock’s ankles to the short posts at the end of the bed, allowing for some slack so he can maneuver the taller man’s hips. He wrapped his hand around his own erection and masturbated for a bit at the sight of the detective in such a helpless position. His arousal grew and precum formed at the head of his cock, which he used to spread around the head. He sighed softly out of pleasure and looked around for actual lubricant, finding some sitting on the bathroom counter. He coated his dick and walked back into the room, smirking at Sherlock attempting to look at him over his shoulder. With one, two, and then three fingers, he prepared his partner to take his cock. He wasn’t long, but his girth was wide, so he had to take extra precautions to ensure Sherlock could handle him. They hadn’t had sex in a while and he knew the other was okay with rough sex, but he still didn’t want to hurt him. 

After getting confirmation that Sherlock was okay, John lifted up his hips and slowly pushed into him, easing the head of his erection inside gently. Sherlock groaned and pushed his face into the mattress, pushing back against John in what seemed like desperation to be filled. John waited for him to adjust anyway before continuing to push further inside. Once he was all the way in and Sherlock was almost begging to be fucked in that same attractive sex-filled voice he loved, John began pumping his hips. Both of them filled the room with moans and other sounds of pleasure, while the sound of skin slapping skin was enough to echo throughout the flat. He attempted to keep his voice lower as to not disturb the neighbours, but the sex was proving to be too enjoyable for the both of them. It was rough and loud and John barely could remember to reach around to Sherlock’s rather hard dick to get him off while he pounded away at his ass. Sherlock’s erection was slightly pulsating in his hand and his back arched as he was preparing for orgasm. Heavy panting and more groans accompanied his body’s reaction so John reached around with his other hand to feel Sherlock’s balls contract. The younger man inhaled sharply and came, come being pushed out in rapid bursts. John groaned and removed his hands from Sherlock’s cock and balls, and placed one on his lower back and the other on his hip while he fucked him until he was coming as well. 

John did everything in his power not to collapse on his boyfriend beneath him and instead forced himself to roll over onto his back and work on his breathing. When he looked over, he could see his come dripping out of that perky bubbly ass and he swore he could come again just at that sight. Sherlock was breathing hard next to him, so John gently turned the other’s head so his face was no longer plastered in the mattress. He leaned over and untied the man’s wrists and kissed his shoulder, hoping he didn’t wrench the muscles. John licked his own dried lips and sat up, inhaling as his sensitive head brushed against his stomach. His erection was fading, albeit slowly. He scooted down and untied Sherlock’s ankles, rubbing at the marks the ties left, and watched as Sherlock pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. The combination of the come visible on the sheets and his own still being pushed out of Sherlock’s ass made him groan. He managed to stand up and grab a rag out of the bathroom, handing it to Sherlock to clean himself up. He chuckled at the fact that Sherlock’s come got into his black curly pubic hair and knew he man probably fancied a shower. 

“John,” Sherlock said abruptly, making the other turn his head slightly. 

“Sherlock,” John responded, wondering where this conversation was going. 

“I want you to know, I’m enlisting tomorrow,” He explained, not bothering to look up to see his boyfriend’s reaction as he was busy trying to clean up his pubic hair. 

John’s voice cracked as he felt his entire demeanour break, “Y-you what? I, I don’t understand. You _want_ to go to war?” 

“I’m bored, John, and I’m also smarter than any Nazi out there. Even smarter than Hitler himself. I’ve already decided, you won’t change my mind.”

“Here I am worried that you’re going to be conscripted and you’re going to fucking enlist? Because you’re fucking bored?! You’re a complete right berk, you know that? God,” John covered his face with his hands and groaned, dragging them down dramatically. 

Sherlock looked up at that reaction and shrugged, standing up, and giving another short kiss to John’s forehead. “My mind is made up, I’m going in tomorrow at 9am to enlist. My dear John, I will come back, I won’t die out there. Now, I need a shower.”


End file.
